Hurdles
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: ...because you had to jump over a few to acheive closure with her. You had everything planned out in terms of what you were going to say – but the fact that you were wondering where the hell to begin was totally unplanned. For Ariana.


**A/N: I was writing The Experiment, and this crept into my brain. That, and I was thinking of **_**Sunday Morning**_**, by Underneath All Elsewhere (Ariana) and that story, which you should totally read and review by the way. All the cool kids are doing it so if you wanna be cool, do click, read that trippy, badass story and drop some reviews! You know you want to.**

**I've always wanted to see a scenario like this happen. And this is Mirrors under a different name and summary. All my titles are just working titles until something better clicks into place in my head – like the sound of settling (which is another one of Ariana's stories so click away). The result from this is my sleeplessness and the fact that I'm up and really restless. So, enjoy and review. **

**Uh, there is Rebecca in this chapter, so I want reviews about how you hate her blah blah blah. I'm not in the mood to deal with that crap, 'kay? **

**Disclaimer: I'm still waiting for that call from Dan Schneider. For now, no.**

* * *

You let out a heaving sigh one sunny day while dropping your backpack on your bed and at the same, greeting your roommates with the typical, "Hey". Nothing monumental, really.

You almost fainted into your bed, allowing the pink blanket to contour to your body, while your blonde hair splayed out in all directions and closed your eyes for one brief second before the yearning in your heart almost amplified triple time and the need to talk to _her_ was compulsive and unsettling. Honestly, what was your reason? After all, there was bad blood between the two of you when you left complete with an uncomfortable and slightly itchy banana suit, right? But your conscience told you to look past that and see the good in her like you did in others and your selfish, implanted human nature laughed at you for being so fickle and naïve about it.

Scornful laughter you heard in your head stopped when you opened your eyes and sat up, Lola and Quinn chattering about Lola's aunt Gloria who apparently had "cougar issues".

"Hey, can I tell you guys something?"

Quinn and Lola looked to you, attentive. Quinn's face showcased the curiosity she always had while Lola looked at you, distressed.

"Oh my God!" the actress cried, making you furrow your brows in confusion. "Zoey, I'm so sorry about your burgundy tube top."

"Wait, I don't have a burgundy tube top."

The other brunette cut in, while pushing her glasses securely to the bridge of her nose. She slightly sighed and you felt yourself getting impatient, the impatience you got when your roommates went off on tangents not really important, "Lola cut the straps off because she felt they were obstructing her shoulders which I really fail to understand."

"Well," Lola blushed a light shade of pink, brown eyes going off into the distance with a dreamy smile to match. "Vince said I had cute shoulders, and honestly, it worked because I wore my hair up today."

"Your hair did look nice today! And you did that with just two – "

"Hey!" you cut in so sharply it almost made the two brunettes in front of you recoil. "You can discuss how you hacked my clothes later! Right now, I'm having sort of a crisis and you guys are the only ones I can tell right now."

"What about Chase?" Quinn questioned, and you gazed down, suddenly interested in a loose thread that hung off the edge of your comfortable. You wrapped a finger around it, lightly before releasing it and then the cycle continued. "Well, what about Chase?"

"He's one of your best friends, and he's your boyfriend now."

"I know. I know," you replied. You shrugged, while Lola crossed her legs Indian style. "It's just that this sort of involves him. It's not serious, but I do feel like I should tell him. I'll get his opinion on it later, but I need to know yours."

"Of course."

"Yeah," Lola urged. "Just tell us already!"

You sighed, and made the smallest mental note. Once you opened your mouth, they weren't coming back, but you had to tell someone or you'd burst.

"Okay," you paused, and playing with your twenty-five dollar mood ring. "Well, you guys know I've been busy with the girl's soccer team, right?"

"Absolutely," Quinn answered before she took on a frown and crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe finally you'll win over Lakehurst Academy. That'll teach Ellen MacFarlane – calling my proton distorter canon scientifically inaccurate! It's not like she can calculate pi to the thirtieth digit or something. The nerve!"

Lola blinked and deadpanned, "Yes. I actually care about that."

You saw Quinn narrow her eyes, "Don't think I'm unaware of your sarcasm, Lola."

"Well, aside from hating Lakehurst and Quinn's scientific rivalry with Ellen MacFarlane, I've been thinking about Rebecca for the past couple weeks. I mean, we are teammates now and we don't even say two words to each other," your words kept flowing and running like a really long waterfall with no bottomless pit. Suddenly, you were pacing and maybe Quinn's assessment of having a Type A was correct. Hell, it _was_ correct. " – and it didn't bother me up until a couple weeks ago. I feel everything just bubble over to the surface and I resent her all over again. All of a sudden, Rebecca's the worst person alive. It's been two years," you slowed down to a soft tone and sat down. "It's got nothing to do with blackmail, awkward first meetings or Chase. Why do I feel this way still?"

Quinn's face showed deep thought as she slightly bit on her bottom lip, trying to search for something plausible in that big brain of hers. You hoped she would, because this was bordering pathetic.

"I know why."

"You do?"

"Yeah," she nodded, while Lola went around you to poke around in the mini fridge for a bottle of Strawberry-Mango Blix. "You feel this way because you have yet to confront her. Your mind already has a predisposition about her when she's most likely changed from taking a break from PCA. My solution: sit down and talk to her openly. In other words, closure."

Closure.

Closure, you said the word quietly in your head.

"You think?"

"It'll really help see things in perspective," Quinn offers, with a shrug and pulled her laptop onto her lap, her fingers flying across the keyboard as the keyboard tip-tapped with every finger stroke. "It worked with Mark. We'll never be romantically involved again because I'm in a good place with Logan right now, but at least now I don't resent him as much anymore."

You still remember the reactions to Quinn and Logan's relationship. There was surprise from you because you couldn't fathom how the most unlikely people could find love in each other. Just last year, you remembered Quinn being so in love with Mark, and Logan making out with any girl that was pleasing to him in terms of appearance and willingness. Chase was your boyfriend now, but his green eyes darted between Quinn and Logan, and you almost wanted to laugh when he combed a hand through his bushy hair and muttered, "Wow, I've been gone too long…" Michael groaned because there really was no planned surprise birthday party while Lisa smiled widely because she knew all along. And Lola screamed in that 'what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you' kind of way, mixed in with shock.

But again, from you came understanding and you were slowly adapting to the idea. You promised, though, that if Logan ever hurt Quinn in any aspect, he would regret it. Lola had no objection agreeing, and Quinn laughed and you shared in a three way hug.

"I got my closure with Scott last year," Lola cut in with a grin after she took a light swig of her bottle of Blix. You and Quinn watched her climb the ladder that led to her bed, above Quinn's.

"Uh," you laughed, the memory quite hilarious still. "Lola, telling the guy he kisses like a broken vacuum cleaner and then dumping your water on him doesn't count as closure."

"Yes, it is. I told him a fact. And now, we don't talk anymore. Closure. See how that works?"

Quinn furrowed a brow at her best friend, "Not really."

"Well, I'm going to for a walk. I'll be back whenever," you replied, grabbing your phone, slipped on flip-flops and walked through Fulton Hall.

When you walked outside, the California evening breeze caressed your face and carried a new sense of resolution.

Closure.

* * *

Hurdle number one was way too high, at least for her small little frame. So, Zoey tried to jump over it smoothly, but it really felt like awkwardly jumping a fence.

* * *

You found him in the Maxwell Hall Lounge, black and white guitar on his lap while a messy notebook with scratched out notes and other reminder in the margins in black and blue ink littered the pages. He had the adorable look of concentration of his face – complete with that eyebrow thing he only did when he was really focused on something. You smiled brightly, sat next to him casually and pecked his cheek.

"Hey."

He looked up to meet your eyes, and he smiled at you with that boyish smile.

"Hey," he replied, and he pecked your lips. Just a little longer, you wanted to hold on to that kiss a little longer. He ran the pad of your thumb over the apple of your cheek while balancing the guitar on his lap. The temptation to drift and melt was too strong, even stronger since he smelled like grapes and Axe – that Chase Matthews smell. But you slowly opened your eyes and took his hands, cradling it in your lap.

"Uh, I need to talk to you."

"What's wrong?"

Heaving a heavy sigh, you looked Chase in the eyes, and just came out with it. His grip on your hand slightly tightened.

"I've decided I want my closure, Chase," you declared, gesturing to yourself. "With Rebecca. I feel like I should put everything on the table with her. She left for a year, and when she came back, I just felt like this," you didn't even know how to describe it. How could you describe something that confused you? How could you put that into words? "I just feel all this anger towards her and I don't want to anymore."

Chase blinked his green eyes in surprise and let out a sound that resembled the cross between a gasp and a poorly executed chuckle, "Zoe, I don't know what to say, but if you want to settle whatever issues you have with her, then I'm all for it."

"How did you do it?"

"It was intense, but we both lived in the same hometown," your boyfriend shrugged. "And it's not like we could avoid her. Especially when we attended the year-end office party at the law office our moms worked at. Rebecca and I had to talk eventually. We just did it sooner than later," Finally, Chase looked at you with a look of thoughtfulness and reminiscence. "I regret how things ended between me and her, but I don't regret dating her because that experience helped me grow as a person and see things differently."

"Oh. Okay."

Maybe you could stop regretting you and James ever happened because he was a nice guy – very sweet and considerate

Again, he smiled that boyish, reassuring smile and kissed you, before parting, "You do what you have to."

"Thanks," you said, before you smiled cheekily and popped one of his green grapes in your mouth. A look of mock irritation crossed his features.

"Zoey, you're stealing my grapes again."

"I know," you giggled, taking another. "Guilty as charged." And then your attention was diverted to the messy notebook that lay open in front. "So, whatcha, writing?"

"A song that clearly isn't coming together yet, but I'm up for a break now."

Chase put his prized guitar in its case, allowing you to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

"Chase?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being friends with James. I was worried you wouldn't," you were surprised at how soft and sleepy your voice sounded.

"Why? Because I'm months late for my duel to the death with the guy?"

You felt Chase gently shift, and plant a light kiss lost in your blonde locks.

"That's the magic of the guitar and causing blood splatter like everyone expects us to isn't that fun anyway. On top of that, he's good people – the lightly sarcastic ones who like to jam together with guitars on Friday nights and get a kick out of dry humor occasionally. And apparently, he and Rebecca are 'really good friends'."

"Careful," you lifted your head to shoot Chase a look of fake warning. "Michael is very serious about your _bromance_. He might get jealous when he realizes you and James are hanging around too much."

"That's a funny thought. Not James getting closer to Rebecca. The whole Michael thing."

"Right."

Resting your head back on its previous spot, you snuggled deeper into Chase getting swept up into the lullaby of his steady breathing, and the rise and fall of his chest.

You laughed lightly, and felt your eyes close. All of this closure-induced resolution was draining.

* * *

Zoey saw the second hurdle as she ran, pushing herself to propel forward. Catching air, she sailed over it – or at least it felt like it – until her shoelaces barely caught the top of the white hurdle as if to skin it, but Zoey landed on her feet no matter how _slightly awkward_ the landing was.

* * *

Your body ached all over – one of the most intense practices _ever_.

You felt sweaty and your heart pounding loudly you could almost hear it. It was soccer practice and you liked to have another sport added to your college application just in case they actually cared about that stuff. But soccer was a great aggression outlet and you valued your position as an offensive striker while Rebecca was a defender. Oh, the irony of it all. It seemed like there was some kind of role reversal because for a while the relationship between you and her – between Zoey Brooks and Rebecca Howard – had been volatile.

The soccer roles were reversed because you only felt like protecting while in your eyes she was always striking you, always hurting you and causing this palpable friction. That was your thinking a year ago.

She dribbled the black and white ball between her legs with ease and you were left wondering in the back of your mind how Rebecca got so good as you tried to past her in a head to head melee on the grassy soccer field. Dark brown eyes met yours and again, you were running, running, and running. The spikes under your soccer cleats digging the dirt beneath the grass.

"Alright, ladies!" That was the unmistakable voice of the girls soccer team coach, Coach Anderson. You didn't exactly appreciate the constant feeling of death when she put you through drill and fitness tests. Then again, soccer was one of the sports you truly loved. And there were actual girls who played so you weren't playing with guys. Planting yourself on the blades of grass, you randomly concluded that the purple uniforms with the light and navy blue lining was a good spending choice but if Lola dared to make arm warmers out of your soccer socks, you weren't going to be happy. At all.

That sharp whistle blew and Coach Anderson let it fall around her neck, "Ladies, that was one of the best practices ever. Keep practicing with that intensity and we'll beat Lakehurst for sure."

Honestly, you were waiting for the clipboard to snap in half.

"Uh, Coach?" Stephanie Callahan's shy voice sounded as she raised a gloved hand in the air. She was tall and lanky, standing at 5'11 almost, or so she told you. Red curls of hair were tied back, even though some tendrils managed to escape the scrunchie, and she was naturally soft spoken. She came to be one of your closest acquaintances outside of your typical group of six. Respect was what you had for Stephanie because you saw beauty under her mousy appearance and she was the best goalie on your team – best goalie at Pacific Coast Academy.

"Yes, Callahan?"

"So, since the game against Lakehurst is in three weeks, I was thinking if it would be fine if some of us could drive there, rather than planning for a school bus," Stephanie looked around all of you and questioned. "We all have cars and a driver's license, right? And if not, we could use the buddy system. My mom's seven seater minivan could be available that day."

"Absolutely!"

"Of course! Way to go, Steph!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Yeah! Let's arrive in style and show those Lakehurst Losers how PCA does it!"

"Ladies! Ladies!" And it became silent. Coach Anderson sighed, directing a gaze towards the team goalie but it applied to all of you. "I'd have to trust you girls, and get this greenlit by Dean Rivers. Until then, let's worry about our plays," Coach Anderson blew the whistle loudly making you jump slightly and put a hand to your racing heart. If it wasn't for your skin, you would have jumped right out of it. "Brooks! Howard!"

For the first time in a while, yours and Rebecca's head both darted simultaneously at the same time.

"Yes, Coach?" you answered, despite the fact that your voice broke off a little bit at the end. You weren't thinking anything of it when you and Rebecca looked at each other, but then back at the grown woman holding the clipboard to her chest as if to question her sanity.

"You two were intense out there. I saw everything, and you killed yourselves out there today – "

Natalie DiMeco interrupted, huffing, "Uh, and what the hell are we? Dog crap? I'm not being a hater, and Zoey and Becks are my girls, but come on! You said it was one of the greatest practices and we were on fire today!"

"Keyword, DiMeco. I said this was one of the greatest practices. Not the best! So, as I was saying, Zoey, Rebecca, you two," she jerked a thumb behind her. "Hit the showers. Keep it up, girls!"

"Thank you," Rebecca replied, and stood, taking her gym bag and sling the strap over her shoulder to start walking into the connecting gym area to the girl's locker room.

Again, the whistle blew and Coach Anderson told the rest of the team, "Hit the track! Five laps each, extra one for you, DiMeco!"

You suppressed laughter when Natalie sighed angrily and coughed into her hand, mumbling something along the lines of, "Psycho-bitch!"

And then you turned around, the head of dark brown of hair gone.

But that was expected so you followed in the same direction.

* * *

The third hurdle was in her sights. And Zoey was hoping she could actually jump over it cleanly. Maybe. Just maybe.

* * *

Still feeling the repercussion of soccer practice, four hours later despite a steam-filled, lavender scented shower, the moment of closure happened at a time when the lounge was semi-empty. Some girls were doing homework in little groups of three and four. Others sang along to music and you had Ashley's Tisdale's, _It's All Right, It's Ok_ in your head.

Suddenly, you were standing across from her. Rebecca was your polar opposite – dark brown collided with dirty blonde. And then your eyes met yours, and you could have sworn she was surprised to see you because she pocketed her TouchBerry Razor in one of her jean pockets. It was as if she had been on the phone with someone but it really wasn't any of your business and honestly, you really didn't care.

"Zoey, um…hi?"

You had everything planned out in terms of what you were going to say – but the fact that you were wondering where the hell to begin was totally unplanned.

"Look, I'm just going to say it," you took charge because that's the person you were. She stared at you with raised eyebrows and a slender hand on her hip. "Can we just talk? We haven't said two words to each other since you came back, but," you sighed. " – can we talk? Trust me, I'm just as shocked as you are."

She sighed, and answered, "Okay, whatever. Your dorm or mine?"

"Mine, I guess," you offered, and the two of you starting walking out of the lounge. Landing at room 101, you used your necklace slash key to open the dorm and you found it empty. _Zoey,_ a note on your dresser said, _Lola and I are at the auditorium. Logan and Lola are rehearsing a duet called __**On The Line**__. Characters for the year end musical are singing that. Should be interesting. See you later tonight. Quinn._

"I just felt a sense of déjà vu," Rebecca said, her eyes drawn to a painting. _Yeah,_ _I had déjà vu too when you threatened to decapitate me,_ was the biting remark front and center in your mind and it took all of the restraint possible to suppress it. But you did, and praised it as progress – small, miniscule progress. She pointed a finger to the colourful painting on the wall. "You get that from a trip too?"

"Oh no. That was Lola's art project. She got an A on that. Art and theatre seems to be the only subjects she cares about, and actually puts effort in."

"Right."

Your dorm reeked of awkward, but still your quest for closure was within reach.

* * *

The fourth hurdle was set in the middle of a stormy rainy day. Zoey's clothes were soaked right through, and the rain was heavy and sharp against her skin. But she jumped, sailing over.

* * *

And then she landed on the cold mud unbeknownst to her on the other side.

Suddenly, Zoey wasn't sure if she wanted to get up. The rain felt weirdly refreshing.

Silence, silence, and more silence.

And then Rebecca's spoke, as she remained planted on the computer chair and you were on your bed, belly down while clutching your stuffed octopus, dubbed Squiggles.

"I loved Chase, y'know. He was do real, sweet, clumsy, and down-to-earth," her voice carried a faraway quality to it, as if she were going back to that Boston summer roughly two years ago. She laughed a hollow laugh, and look at you. There was something in her eyes that you couldn't catch, but maybe, Rebecca was just…guarded? You didn't know. "Then I came here, and we met in the most awkward of ways."

"Yes, I remember."

You believed them. You believed Lola and Quinn for that split second. Maybe, Chase probably was in love with you and you were just oblivious.

You set out with that thin, single thread of hope in your grip.

And then you saw_ it_ and the thread broke with a quiet _snap_ onlyyou heard loudly.

"Well, I also saw how we looked at you, and I was right in front of him. It was frustrating, and made me angry so that's why I had that whole blackmailing mess happen. I really don't want to live my life with regrets, but," she shrugged. "Time only goes forward not backwards."

You furrowed a brow in confusion, "But you did all of that to get back at me, right?"

"No, but that's what I wanted everyone to think. Actually I did that to get back at Chase. You were just in the key part of the equation," Rebecca clarified in a nonchalant way, and you were left kind of impressed in a topsy-turvy way because that plan was so simple yet complex beneath the surface. But a whole bunch of conflicting emotions surged through you – _confusion, disbelief, anger_ – god, you didn't want to be angry anymore. "Once again, that blew up in my face because he jumped right in to defend you, so I made the decision to leave PCA. I needed time to let go off PCA and around familiar surroundings and get over Chase."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But I don't regret it. I never regret anything. I can't live life like that."

You gazed at her, letting go of the grip you had on the stuffed sea creature's tentacles – or one of them, "I get it, sort of. I get it if you resent me – "

"Thanks for feeling like I'm entitled to that," the brunette replied, and tendril of her dark brown hair behind her double pierced ear. "And if you still can't stand me, then it's all good. I'm kind of numb to that, to tell you the truth."

"No, no!" you cut in, surprised at how hurried your voice sounded. You cleared your throat and rubbed a hand over your face. "I just mean," you paused, and you didn't know what you meant. " – Rebecca, I understand that we probably won't be best friends, but I was thinking we could just put everything behind us."

Rebecca blinked, and you caught the shadow of a smile softly gracing her features.

"I want that too, Zoey. So, what is this? A truce?"

"If you want to call it that, then sure," you complied, smiling for the first time in a while. You weren't sure whether to smile or not, but yeah, you were sure this time. "But why the change of heart, Rebecca?"

"Because," the brunette hid a smile, and you realized she did that often. " – I'm in a good place right now, and I don't want to compromise that," Standing, she walked over to the door, her hand on the knob. "But on the field, I'm allowed to hate you."

Nodding in agreement, the soccer field was the one place where pent up aggression could be let loose and run wild, while sharing a common goal.

"Fair enough."

Wordlessly, Rebecca walked through the open doorway of your dorm until she turned a corner and disappeared. Snuggling into your bed deeper, you held Squiggles a little more closely and _finally_ you heard it: the sound of everything shifting into place and everything being in balance.

* * *

The fifth and last hurdle was easier to jump and Zoey landed with ease, on both of her feet.

* * *

**A/N: And it's over. Nine pages. I had fun with this. Not my usual style, but yeah, I'm only with this. Hope you guys are too. But something irks me and I have to address this before bed, or I'll virtually punch someone. Okay, now everyone here is trying to express themselves which I get, and totally respect because everyone has a right to them. But when I watch the Zoey 101 section and see new stories that have cringe worthy, horrendous grammar and the summary that makes me want to gouge my effing eyes out with a fork, then we have a problem! A BIG ONE! Am I the perfect writer? No. Am I human and prone to make mistakes like awkwardly worded sentences sometimes, absolutely. But PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF QUOGAN and everything that is holy, PLEASE use spell check. I'm pretty sure MS Word comes with this. And even if there is no spell check for you, then a guy named Webster made something called the DICTIONARY. Are you ready? Can you handle that? Yes, you can! Use it! Love it! Embrace it! SERIOUSLY! –headdesk- **

**Do not blame it on the computer! It's you! All you! Bullshit excuse!**

**You went to school to string words together that make sense. Hell, it can be super-shallow and lack meaning but I'll enjoy it more if it's well-written. Understand, kids? Like seriously, with everything you go out and do in life, don't half-ass anything! This applies to FANFICTION! Stop being in denial. Just admit you suck horribly at spelling and such, and IMPROVE. There's room for that, y'know. No wonder nobody reviews! Ugh. God, this frustrates me! So, I close with this quote, "Shape up or ship out!"**

**Of course, this doesn't apply to everyone. To the ones you go hard and all the way with your deeper, makes-me-think writing, kudos! You guys go all the way with it and never hold back which makes me respect you. Despite the character or pairing, if it matches these criteria, then yes, you have my never ending awe and respect. For realz. Lol. **

…

**Ariana, I wrote this with you in mind so I hope you like it as well. The archive needs you and your kick-butt stories back. Honestly. I miss you much. Just spreading the Rebecca love since I know you like her. Enjoy. **

…

**The rest of you. You know the drill. Reviews would be nice to get when I wake up. Feedback really does pacify me. They did a study on this and it was successful. **

**-Erika**


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